


More Words Than A Heart Can Comprehend

by GodlingCaptainChristina



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, M/M, Oblivious Grantaire, Pining Enjolras, Trans Enjolras
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2017-08-06
Packaged: 2018-12-11 20:58:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11722440
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GodlingCaptainChristina/pseuds/GodlingCaptainChristina
Summary: In which, Grantaire has started receiving kind anon messages and doesn't know what to do.In other news, Enjolras' pining is only slightly pathetic and mostly not noticeable. Which is unfortunate because Grantaire is the most oblivious man on the planet.





	More Words Than A Heart Can Comprehend

**Author's Note:**

  * For [stopcallingmeapollo (GayMarauders)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/GayMarauders/gifts).



Grantaire found his soulmate at 2:13 AM on a Thursday. Of course, because the only place he’s been at 2:13 AM since getting sober has been his own bed, he’s more surprised than anything. He was half-expecting for his soulmate to be some sort of supernatural freak with at least three illegal substance addictions and a prison record. 

Instead, he was given an Anon on Tumblr.com. 

There are four asks sitting in his inbox when he checks it. 

He scratched his wrist absently as he read and re-read each ask. 

_I don’t know if you know this, but you inspire me so much. That sounds so trite and doesn’t even cover it, but you’re amazing. Every time I see something about you, the whole world lights up a bit because of how good and kind you are._

_You are hurting so much all the time, but you always go out of your way to be kind to people here and IRL too. You hurt so much all the time, but you always go out of your way to be kind to people here and IRL too. You could’ve decided ‘Fuck it, I come first for now,’ but instead, you give back everything that you weren’t given. You see all of the sufferings in the world and don’t see any hope sometimes, but you do your best to make other people’s lives just a tiny bit better._

_I know you don’t know I follow you here- mostly because I’m a coward and can’t tell you who I am- but I’m proud to call you my friend. Seeing you and knowing who you are has been one of the greatest joys of my life._

_You always keep your wrist covered, at least around me. I don’t even know if you know what your wrist says. You’re always so averse to talking about it. So I can only hope that yours matches mine._

**I can only hope that your wrist matches mine.**

Grantaire stared at the screen for several more minutes, trying to comprehend what this person was saying. It couldn’t be what he was hearing. There was no way that someone was actually saying these things, saying that they wanted him, that they thought he was a good person. 

As a rule, he didn’t look at his wrist. The only thing there was what had been there for years: a string of blinking red zeroes. Courfeyrac was the only person who really ever saw his wrist anymore, but Grantaire had years of hope and disappointment in those numbers. Every time there was someone he hoped would be the one, nothing changed. 

He didn’t have the courage to look anymore. 

 

 

Courfeyrac, though kind and trusting to a fault, could not be trusted with a secret to save his life. Whether that was a product of their grandmother’s attempts at religious indoctrination or the front row seat he got of their parents’ marriage falling apart, Grantaire would never know. Grantaire couldn’t really fault him for it, but it was particularly irritating when he was trying to actually keep a secret. 

Unfortunately, Courfeyrac was very good at guessing Grantaire's passwords. 

“You signed up for that art exchange!” Courfeyrac asked. Well, more shouted, but it was originally supposed to be a question. At least, he assumed it was meant to be. There was a good chance that Courfeyrac just wanted to shout at him, but he was just going to keep thinking that Courfeyrac was a good brother who loved him and didn’t yell all the time about everything. 

Grantaire glared at his textbook mildly. “Yes, I signed up for an art exchange.” He tapped his pen on his desk. “I figured it was a good step forward after ink-tober went so well.” The words in front of him wobbled out of place and he couldn’t focus anymore. He dropped his pen and turned to frown at Courfeyrac’s beaming smile. “Is there something wrong with that?” 

Courfeyrac smiled wider. For a terrifying second, Grantaire was sure that he was going to cry, but instead, he found himself being hugged very hard. “I’m so proud of you,” Courfeyrac whispered into his neck. 

They hugged for another few minutes before Courfeyrac let go. 

He wiped his eyes and breathed out slowly. “You made me cry, you ass.” Grantaire giggled. “I was supposed to be studying.” 

“Were you really studying though?” Courfeyrac asked. He flopped across the bed and spread out as much as someone who was only 5’6” could. “I know I’m supposed to be studying right now.”

“Yet here you are,” Grantaire said. He thought about closing his textbook and curling up beside Courfeyrac for a nap. It would be so easy, but he would probably fail this stupid test if he did that. 

“Here I am,” Courfeyrac said. He smiled and closed his eyes. 

Grantaire stared blankly at his textbook until the words burst out. He really did try to stop them, but they’d been gnawing at him for days now. 

“I think I found my soulmate.” He bit his tongue and prayed that Courfeyrac didn’t actually hear him. 

Courfeyrac snapped up. _“What?”_ Well, Grantaire really should have expected that and prepared his ear plugs. There was basically zero chance that Courfeyrac wouldn’t freak out about this. “Oh my God, _show me!”_ He yanked Grantaire's rolling chair as close to the bed as he could and held out his hands expectantly. He made furious ‘faster, faster!’ motions as Grantaire peeled off his wristband. 

Grantaire did everything he could to avoid looking at first. He didn’t want to look up at them to only see zeroes again. He’d gone through this routine of denial and hope and disappointment too many times already. 

But what if this time was _the_ time. What if he abandoned hope too soon and left his soulmate alone without even knowing? 

He had to do this.

The skin under the band was so much lighter than he was used to. It was almost hard to believe that it was his skin at all. Those couldn’t be his numbers if it wasn’t his skin. 

 

 

The exchange was contained to Paris for the most part. There were some Non-Parisian French-people in the exchange, but somehow the mods had kept it small. Or at least as small as they could with the whole of Paris as a playground. 

So there was a small chance that he knew his gift-er and gift-ee. It was a small chance, but a chance that existed none the less. 

Of course, that didn’t stop his fool heart from hoping when he saw Enjolras carrying around his sketchbook again. He hadn’t seen him with it for months until less than a week ago. But that was ridiculous. Enjolras didn’t participate in such frivolities as silly little art exchanges. He didn’t drive himself to exhaustion so much anymore- by order of Combeferre and Joly- but he didn’t do things just to waste time. 

Grantaire had been told often enough to stop doodling and pay attention in meetings to know what Enjolras probably thought of his art. Hearing what Grantaire was participating in would probably only sour his opinion to the exchange at all. If Grantaire was doing it, it could possibly be any good. 

At least his anon was there to comfort him. 

He hadn’t even made a post to complain about his bad day, but somehow they knew that if there was any day to give him something to lean on, today was it. Maybe it was some sort of magical soul mate thing. Maybe it was because they knew each other in real life like the anon kept implying. 

_The first time I saw you, I thought that you were the most impossibly insufferable man I’d ever met. Barely ten minutes passed before I saw that you were also one of the most educated._

_I can’t take back any of the bad things I’ve said in anger, but I can apologize. I know that an apology isn’t going to fix everything, but I don’t know where else to start._

_I’m sorry about today. I was having a bad day- a bad week, honestly- and I took it out on you. I knew you weren’t feeling well as soon as I saw you, but instead of dealing with my feelings like a mature human being I was an ass instead._

_And I’m sorry that I can’t just come up to you and apologize either. I dug myself a hole here and am honestly terrified of you finding out who I am. That you’re my soulmate and that I didn’t tell you._

_But I love you. So much that it hurts sometimes. I want you to have as many good days as humanly possible, even if sometimes it doesn’t seem like it._

Grantaire could almost feel the number on his wrist ticking up. It was probably just a placebo, but there was an itch on his wrist that he couldn’t just explain away. 

He looked down at his bare wrist and watched the blinking red numbers ticking up. Finally, it settled on 1,170,347. God, how had his soulmate spoken a million words to him without him realizing? How had he not noticed that? 

The only person he could imagine speaking that much was Enjolras. And there was no way that Enjolras was his soulmate. He would have said something if they were. Enjolras was horrible at keeping secrets. There was less than a zero percent chance that his soulmate, who had spoken a million words to him without him noticing, who sent him sweet anon messages on Tumblr at least once a week, who knew him in real life and cared about him, who wanted him happy and healthy, was Enjolras. 

That didn’t stop him from imagining that maybe, just maybe, all these years of pining hadn’t been for nothing. 

 

It was a ridiculous dream. 

 

 

Somehow, Grantaire managed to not see Enjolras for nearly three weeks after he saw his wrist again. 

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see him. He did, more than was probably healthy honestly, but somehow he’d managed to start daydreaming about Enjolras’ wrist. About how maybe his numbers ticked up when Grantaire spoke. About how Enjolras would smile looking down at it. About Enjolras pressing their wrists together and smiling at him. 

But all of that was fucking ridiculous. 

He didn’t need to see Enjolras’ wrist to know that theirs would never match. 

He just needed to focus on this art exchange and not run off into fairy tale dreams of Enjolras falling in love with him and the two of them living happily ever after with their magically matching wrists. 

 

 

“Are you avoiding Enjolras?” Courfeyrac asked. He leaned across the bar, reaching for a can of whipped cream that he’d left there between orders. 

“Leave that alone, you’re lactose intolerant.” Grantaire snatched it away and ignored Courfeyrac’s over dramatic moaning. “And no, I’m not avoiding Enjolras.” Yes, he was, but it wasn’t on purpose really, so maybe that didn’t count. “I’m just trying to focus on other things, you know. Non-Enjolras related things.” He left the counter to Montparnasse’s semi-capable hands to go bus tables. 

“As if,” Montparnasse scoffed. 

“You don’t get a say,” Grantaire said. He almost wanted to wag his finger at them. There aren’t many cups to pick up yet, so mostly he was just wiping down mostly clean tables and glaring at Courfeyrac. He ignored the bell tinkling over the door for as long as he could. Hopefully, it was Courfeyrac leaving, but if it wasn’t, Montparnasse could deal without him for a little longer. 

“Grantaire!” Montparnasse called. “Your friends are here.” 

_Oh no._

Grantaire turned around to see Courfeyrac somehow draped over Jehan, Feuilly, and Cosette. Enjolras had somehow avoided that octopus-hug, but he still hadn’t moved to the counter yet. Instead, he just stood there, staring at him. All of the air left Grantaire's body and he clutched his tub of dishes just that little bit closer. 

Seeing Enjolras again didn’t hurt nearly as much as he’d imagined it would. It didn’t sting like a new paper cut or burn like shitty vodka. All Grantaire felt was a wash of calm. 

It wasn’t supposed to be like that. It wasn’t supposed to _feel_ like that. Enjolras was supposed to make him nervous and hopeful and vaguely useless. He wasn’t used to being this composed around Enjolras and he didn’t know if he liked it. It felt ominous. 

“Hey, R,” Enjolras said and, yup, there were the butterflies and anxiety again. 

“Hey,” Grantaire breathed. 

For a few seconds, he just stood there, staring at Enjolras and clutching his dish tub. That was about when he realized that he was still holding that stupid thing. He ignored Courfeyrac making faces at him as he made his way back behind the counter to try and hide his shame. 

“You’re blushing,” Montparnasse noted dryly. 

“I am not!” Grantaire was tempted to shove Montparnasse aside for that, but he valued his life more than that. “What can I get you guys?” 

Jehan escaped Courfeyrac’s octopus arms first and leaned across the counter to pull Grantaire into a hug. “I haven’t seen you in ages!” Jehan smelled like mint and chocolate. “How much sleep have you gotten since I last saw you? Have you eaten today?” 

“I saw you yesterday, Jehan.” Grantaire smiled. Behind Jehan, Enjolras was smiling at them warmly. It was almost strange seeing Enjolras so soft. 

Montparnasse sighed heavily. “What can I get you?” he asked, dead-faced. 

Jehan pulled back, smiling and blushing. They pulled their sleeves over their hands. 

After all their drinks were passed out and paid for, Grantaire half expected for the five of them to leave. That’s what they usually did, but this time they found a table close to the counter and pulled it even closer. Montparnasse glared at them, but they didn’t even seem to notice. 

Normally, Grantaire would have expected Montparnasse to shove him back to work or sigh melodramatically, but he didn’t do any of that. Well, he did shove him, but it was away from the machines. 

“What are you doing?” Grantaire asked. 

“I am preventing your friends’ melodrama,” he said succinctly. “Every time they drink their coffee here, you’re distracted by them for at least half an hour.” 

“I think you’re exaggerating,” Grantaire said. Okay, he may have been a bit preoccupied all day with thoughts of his mysterious soulmate and vague imaginings of Enjolras, but there wasn’t much that could make him worse at this point. Still, he sat down beside Courfeyrac and was immediately distracted by Enjolras offering him his cup. Okay, maybe Montparnasse had a point. 

“Have you thought at all about what I said?” Courfeyrac asked. He fluttered his eyes innocently, but there was a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

“Yes, I have,” Grantaire said. He took only a few sips of Enjolras’ hot chocolate before handing it back. “I have deemed your idea insane and not worth pursuing.” 

Courfeyrac made an affronted noise and rounded on him with new vigor. “R! What did I tell you?” 

“Self-confidence, self-reflection, blah blah.” Okay, it might have gone a little more like _‘R, I love you very much, but you need to take care of yourself more,’_ and _‘Saying that there’s zero chance that Enjolras is your soulmate is stupid and you aren’t stupid, are you?’_ Whatever.

“Sounds like a pleasant talk,” Feuilly said. He smiled teasingly. 

“Oh, yeah. I love getting lectured by my younger brother.” Grantaire winked at Courfeyrac. “Always makes my day.” 

Enjolras tried burying his snort of laughter in his hot chocolate. It didn’t work well, but A for effort, at least. There was something to be said about people who actually laughed at Grantaire's bad jokes and shitty humor. 

“Is it just me or is your coworker over there really cute?” Jehan whispered. They ducked their head behind Cosette’s shoulder. 

“What?” Grantaire asked. “Montparnasse isn’t cute. Montparnasse probably usurped Satan in a past life and reformed Hell to have better fashion.” 

“I resent that,” Montparnasse shouted from the espresso machine. 

Enjolras slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle his laughter. He’s flushed red and his eyes are sparkling. Honestly, seeing him like this, it’s no wonder that Grantaire fell in love with him. Just seeing him like that now made Grantaire want to kiss him and hold him and- 

And lots of things that weren’t allowed because Enjolras didn’t like him like that. And somewhere out there Grantaire had a soulmate that apparently cared about him a lot. 

He rubbed at the skin of his wrist, just pushing aside the band covering the numbers. They’d gone up steadily over the past few weeks. Sweet messages telling Grantaire things that they adored about him, little habits that they’d noticed over the past few years, small things that had grown on them, all of the things that they wanted to do with him. Most every day now he’d wake up to another message waiting for him. 

It was nice. 

“So, have you decided whether or not you’re going to look for your anon?” Cosette asked. She smiled innocently enough, but Grantaire could see the smug gleam in her eyes that betrayed her. 

Jehan and Feuilly both looked confused. That was expected though. Grantaire hadn’t talked very much about everything. He blushed dark red. 

“What anon?” Feuilly asked. 

Courfeyrac leaned over the table, drinking in everyone’s attention. Even Enjolras was leaning in and staring. “Grantaire got an anon on Tumblr a few months ago claiming to be his soulmate.” 

“That’s so cute.” Jehan swooned. “So, is it true?” 

“It looks like it,” Grantaire replied. 

“What do you mean ‘looks like it?’” Enjolras asked. “Wouldn’t you just be able to tell who your soulmate is?” He furrowed his brow. It looked like he wanted to lean further forward, but held off. 

“Well, normally,” Grantaire conceded. “But I hadn’t looked at my wrist in years.” He breathed out softly. He hadn’t told anyone besides Courfeyrac that in years and it felt like a weight was slipping off his shoulders. “I didn’t even look at my wrist for another week after that first message.” Before all he’d felt about looking at his wrist was anxiety. It felt like a shameful secret saying that now. Those numbers had given Grantaire so much joy since he’d seen them and he was glad to have seen them, but he almost couldn’t believe how long it had taken him to look. 

“It doesn’t matter anyway,” Grantaire said finally. “I haven’t made a decision either way. And it doesn’t look like they want me to know who they are right now anyway.” He swallowed. He did want to meet them, but there was still the niggling fear that once the two of them had really met, with all the soulmate knowledge open between them, that they wouldn’t want him anymore. 

Enjolras leaned back in his chair. There was a weird look on his face, almost like disappointment, but Grantaire had seen enough of that from him to know when Enjolras was disappointed in him. 

“Thank you for sharing,” Jehan started. “But I am very attracted to Montparnasse and I don’t know what to do about it.” They laid their head down and sighed. 

“Snatch his wrist up and start talking to see if you two match up,” Cosette suggested. 

“That is weird,” Feuilly said. 

“And probably illegal,” Courfeyrac added. 

“So are most of Montparnasse’ hobbies, so I think that it’s okay.” Grantaire smiled. 

“I don’t think that’s how that works,” Enjolras said, but it was too late because Jehan had gotten up to go talk to Montparnasse again. “God damn it,” Enjolras sighed. He offered Grantaire his hot chocolate again. “Why doesn’t anyone ever listen to me?” he asked, dropping his head onto Grantaire's shoulder 

“Maybe it has something to do with the fact that you’ve chosen some of the most stubborn people on the planet to be friends with?” Grantaire smiled and poked Enjolras in the side. He could practically feel Courfeyrac _looking_ at them, but he ignored it in favor of just enjoying the moment. 

 

 

_Did you know that you make my heart skip a beat every time I see you? It probably doesn’t seem like it because I usually keep a lot of my emotions close, but it’s still true._

_Yesterday, I was having a bad day. Then I came to see you and I could feel my worries just melting away, however cheesy that sounds._

Grantaire blushed. It was insane to think that he could have this effect on someone. Had apparently been having this effect for a long time and was still having- 

Yesterday. While he was at work all day. 

What? 

 

 

Enjolras was chewing on his nails when Grantaire got to the Musain. 

He wasn’t sure what to think at this point. He’d spent the past few days trying to figure everything out. It felt like it was staring him down, but he still couldn’t wrap his head around it. 

By now, Éponine just glared at him when he tried talking to her about it. Which, okay, maybe justified, but it was still rude. Grantaire really needed all the help he could get on this. 

_No, you don’t, asshole. You literally saw like 4 of your friends yesterday that could have even said that many words to you._ That was the last text that Éponine had sent him before cutting him off. Again- justifiable, still rude. Which summed up a lot of the things that Éponine did, but Grantaire would never actually tell her that because he valued all of his fingers.

Mindlessly, Grantaire sat beside Enjolras. He was too caught up in his thoughts to really fuss about it. 

It couldn’t be Feuilly. They’d only known each other nine months now and Feuilly definitely hadn’t spoken 1.4 million words to him. As wonderful a soulmate as he would be, Grantaire just couldn’t imagine himself and Feuilly in any situation that wasn’t strictly platonic. And the messages he got on Tumblr didn’t even leave a faint whiff of platonic feelings in the air. 

Jehan might have been a good candidate, except for the fact that the two of them had met when they were 14. It had only taken Grantaire two weeks to convince himself that he and Jehan were meant to be. 

Obviously, Courfeyrac was not an option. He and Courfeyrac had spent the first four years of their lives comparing wrists to see if _today_ was the day that the universe finally made them match up. 

Cosette maybe? Fuck, he hoped not. Cosette was scary competent and Grantaire was decidedly not. There was no way that they would be able to stand each other for their whole lives. 

And Enjolras. Well, Grantaire wasn’t lucky enough for Enjolras to be his soulmate. 

So, yes, it could be said that he’d been driving himself a little crazy over this. 

“Hey, R,” Enjolras said. He smiled thinly at Grantaire. There were papers and notes spread out around him with several coffee mugs close enough to reach. 

Grantaire jumped a little. “Hey.” A tingle ran up his spine and he smiled. “How are you?” he asked. He laid a hand on Enjolras’ arm. Here, with Enjolras beside him and a band covering his wrist, his soulmate faded out of his mind. 

Enjolras breathed out. It looked vaguely like he was deflating. But in a good way? Maybe? Grantaire wasn’t really sure how to read that, but he was just going to go for positive here. 

“I’m okay now,” Enjolras responded. He laid his head down on the table over his dozens of papers. Grantaire's hand shifted down Enjolras’ arm to his hand. 

“Now?” Grantaire asked. “What happened earlier?” 

“I just got a little drunk last night and probably did something stupid.” Enjolras squeezed his hand. “I’m worried that I did something stupid last night, but I don’t remember.” 

Grantaire snorted. “That is the exact feeling I get every time I get drunk,” Grantaire said. “Drunk me is both more confident and less fussed about pants. That gets me in a lot of trouble.” He smiled. The last time he’d gotten drunk, he and Courfeyrac had ended up passed out on a nude beach with their hair braided together and a key at the very top of their braids. It had taken them 20 minutes to figure out how to get the key out and another hour and a half to find the storage locker with all of their stuff inside. 

Enjolras smiled at him and Grantaire's insides fluttered. Enjolras’ fingers picked at Grantaire's wristband absently and something melted inside him. 

“So, I wanted to ask you some-” 

“Grantaire, I have to tell you-” 

They giggled a little, holding hands tighter. Everything felt perfect and relaxed. This was how Grantaire hoped things would be when he found his soulmate. He wished that it would be as easy as this was. He wished that it could be Enjolras. 

“Okay,” Grantaire started. He stared at their joined hands. “You first.” 

Enjolras sat up and faced Grantaire. He smiled. 

“R, I’m-” 

_BAM!_ The door slammed against the wall and they jumped apart. Grantaire wasn’t even really sure why. They weren’t doing anything bad or even embarrassing. He didn’t even know who was here. 

“Grantaire!” Courfeyrac shouted. “You are not going to believe who kissed me today!” He was dragging Combeferre behind him, so Grantaire could actually probably guess. Honestly, it was about time those two figured their shit out and he was happy for them, but they picked the worst time for it. 

As Courfeyrac settled with them, on Combeferre’s lap, Enjolras laid his head back down with a sigh. He didn’t reach for Grantaire's hand where it sat empty on the table. 

 

 

“So what were you and Enjolras talking about?” Éponine asked later. 

Grantaire tried his best to ignore her. That was usually the best way to go whenever she wanted to tease him about Enjolras. Which was kind of hypocritical because he was much worse about her embarrassingly huge crush on Cosette. It was different though because Cosette liked her back; there was no way that Enjolras liked Grantaire back. 

And even ignoring that, he had a soulmate somewhere probably nearby who he was kind of falling in love with. 

“Come on, R,” Éponine prodded. She dug a bony finger into his ribs. “Tell me,” she pressed. If Éponine’s behavior was any indication, she either didn’t give a damn about boundaries anymore, or she wanted revenge for something. Probably something Cosette-related. “R,” she purred. 

Grantaire groaned quietly. “You are the fucking worst.” 

“Something happened and I want to know about it,” she said. She didn’t elaborate any further, just staring at Grantaire. 

Several tables away, Courfeyrac was still curled up in Combeferre’s lap and was attempting to steal all of his pens, possibly to get all of his attention. Enjolras was sipping at a fresh cup of coffee and taking notes on Joly’s slideshow. He probably didn’t much care about the germs encountered at rallies and protests and marches, but it mattered to Joly and that was enough for Enjolras. 

“We were just talking,” Grantaire said. He watched Enjolras smiling and he wanted so badly. For his mystery soulmate. For Enjolras. For the two of them to be one and the same. For a lot of things really. “We were only talking and I just started wanting him so much. Just all at once like it hasn’t been in months.” Grantaire wrapped his arms around himself. For a minute, he just allowed himself to wallow. 

“My soulmate is probably in this room right now,” he said finally. “Did I tell you that?” From the corner of his eye, he saw Éponine shook her head. “Yeah.” He ignored his damp eyes and stared at Enjolras. “And I want them, I do. So much, Ép. But here I am now. Staring at Enjolras and wishing that _he_ could be _them_.” He tore his eyes away from Enjolras, with his frizzy hair, under-eye bags, and premature crow’s feet. 

“Oh no, honey,” Éponine sighed. She guided Grantaire's head into her lap and started playing with his hair. 

Grantaire followed her guidance and tried to relax. Usually, her magic hands in his hair was enough to fix- or at least ease- even the worst of situations. Of course, all of the many, many Enjolras- related Situations had always been a bit much for her fingers. With the added drama of his soulmate and all of his Feelings. 

Feelings were the fucking worst. 

 

 

“Grantaire,” someone whispered. “Love, wake up.” They shook his shoulder gently. Their hand felt small and soft. “R, love, the meetings over.” 

_Love? Who even called him love?_

Reluctantly, Grantaire opened his eyes. He was still in the Musain, laying down in the really uncomfortable booth seat that Éponine and he had been in earlier. The only things that were different was that everyone else was gone. Except for Enjolras, who was leaning over him and with the way the lights were shining behind him, he looked like an angel. 

Enjolras woke him up. Enjolras was leaning over him and touching his shoulder and smiling and- 

Enjolras called him love. 

“Hey,” Grantaire sighed. He could almost feel how stupid and doe-y his eyes were. Why did he always get like that? How did Enjolras hold so much power over him?

Enjolras’ hand moved from his shoulder to his hair. He pushed it back from his forehead and cupped the back of Grantaire's neck. His smile softened and Grantaire wanted to kiss him so badly. But that was a bad idea. 

This was a bad idea. 

Enjolras’ lips were soft and slightly chapped. Grantaire let out a shuddering breath and pushed closer. It was everything Grantaire ever imagined and nothing like he’d expected. Mostly because he expected that Enjolras would shove him off and maybe yell at him. Instead, Enjolras pulled him closer and opened his mouth to deepen the kiss. 

Yeah, that was going much better than Grantaire had ever expected. 

Enjolras chased after his lips when Grantaire pulled back and Grantaire died a little bit. Instead of doing the rational thing and asking Enjolras ‘what the actual fuck’, Grantaire kissed him again and again and again. 

“So, you figured it out it guess,” Enjolras said between kisses. 

“Figured what out?” Grantaire asked. Okay, mostly gasped, but could anyone actually blame him? Enjolras was kissing him and Grantaire's insides were melting. 

Enjolras pulled back a little, panting a little and smiling. “That I’ve been sending you those asks on Tumblr.” 

_What?_ Grantaire couldn’t even comprehend what Enjolras was saying. Enjolras just kept staring at Grantaire and waiting, but he didn’t understand. His anon was his soulmate and Enjolras was claiming to be his anon. But Enjolras couldn’t be his soulmate. There was no way that he and Enjolras were soulmates. Enjolras didn’t deserve to be saddled with him and Grantaire definitely didn’t deserve him. So Enjolras couldn’t be his anon. 

Why would Enjolras lie though? Why would he kiss back and then keep kissing him? All Grantaire had were questions piled on questions. He didn’t know what to say, he didn’t know what to _think_. All he could do was stare and try processing what Enjolras had said. 

Slowly, Enjolras’ easy smile started to slip from his face. 

“You… didn’t know that, did you?” Enjolras asked. He pulled away from Grantaire. 

Grantaire shook his head. He wanted to use real words, but he couldn’t figure out how to use his tongue like a normal person. Instead, he squeaked out something that sounded like _oh my god_ , but it was difficult to say anything when he couldn’t articulate even single syllable words. Everything inside him was strung tight, but there was a familiar fluttering inside his ribcage.

“Grantaire,” Enjolras said. He wrapped his fingers around Grantaire's wrist, tracing his fingers along his wristband. “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you.” Tears gathered in Enjolras’ eyes. “I thought that you knew and didn’t want me. By the time that I found out you didn’t know, I couldn’t do anything.” 

Grantaire curled into himself, trying to ward off the impending tears. He couldn’t believe it. Enjolras was telling the truth. Enjolras was his….They were… Grantaire covered his mouth with his free hands in a vain attempt to push back the sobs. “You’re-” He couldn’t even say anything. This was better than any dream he’d dared to have. This was a dozen fantasies rolled into one and sprinkled with a more than healthy dose of Too-Good-To-Be-True. 

“Oh. Oh no, R, love, don’t cry,” Enjolras begged. He hugged Grantaire tight and Grantaire took full advantage of it to get as close as possible. “I’m so sorry. I know that you probably don’t love me like I love you, but I wanted you to- Ow!” Enjolras yanked away a little. “Why did you pinch me?” 

“You’re an idiot,” Grantaire said, smiling and unrepentant. He was still crying and no doubt there was snot everywhere, but that didn’t even matter. His doubts and his fears didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was that he and Enjolras were hugging each other and crying like fools. “I’m in love with you too.” 

 

 

“I knew they were going to be like this,” Combeferre complained. 

To be fair, they might have deserved it, at least a little bit. Neither of them were paying attention to the world around them and they were most definitely exchanging ‘I love you’-s and small kisses. At least Enjolras wasn’t in Grantaire's lap this time. 

“Hush you,” Courfeyrac scolded. He waved at Combeferre and his persistent complaints. “They deserve to be cute together.” 

“There’s a fine line between being cute and being gross,” Combeferre said. He frowned sternly down at Courfeyrac. “They toed the line before Grantaire knew they were dating. They edged into Gross territory for weeks before Grantaire knew. They’ve officially gone full-time Gross.” 

Courfeyrac shook his head. “Let them be gross in peace.” He settled into Combeferre’s lap. “They deserve to be happy.” 

“No matter how weird it is to see your older brother kissing one of your best friends?” Combeferre asked. It was indeed very weird seeing Enjolras this soft and Grantaire this open. 

“No matter how weird and kind of gross it is.” Courfeyrac smiled. 

Courfeyrac was right, of course. It was good seeing the two of them so bright and cheerful and peaceful. Enjolras and Grantaire kissed softly, and Combeferre looked past the initial pinch of Weird from seeing his friends kissing. He saw two people who were so in love that they didn’t care who was watching, didn’t even register that other people existed outside of their little bubble. 

Combeferre rested his head on Courfeyrac’s shoulder and grinned up at him. “Okay, I see your point,” he said. 

“Knew you would,” Courfeyrac gloated. Just a little bit.

**Author's Note:**

> Pretentious title because my brain is dead and I have no words left to squeeze out now.  
> The Teen and Up rating is because I can't control my children's potty language.


End file.
